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The Scum Gentry journal - An Alternative News Source
Satirical news articles, social satire and political satire Headlines.

A Procession of Degenerates through Dublin - satirical news article by Garret O'Gorman

Last week I had the great fortune to be approached by the reputable boys from TheScumGentry.com, a high brow online enterprise consisting of poets, musicians and essayists. They wanted me to attend a trade union march in Dublin and write up my interpretation of the day’s events. For me, this was a very welcome development. Aside from a widely acclaimed article published in “Irelands Own” magazine in 1996, my writing career had of late slipped into something of a slumber and my work as a lobbyist had died along with Charles Haughey. Did this new offer mark the beginning of a new era for Garret O’Gorman? Had the scandalous allegations made against me in the past been forgotten?

The young lads intended for me to publish my piece by Sunday evening. Unfortunate circumstances have meant that this deadline was not met. When I travelled to Dublin to attend the March, my first stop was my usual place of rest—the Shelbourne hotel. Unfortunately, she was all booked up. An unexpected setback but there is plenty of other premium hotels in Dublin. I moved onto my next favourite. Again, all booked out. After trying several of Dublin’s finest hotels and some of the not-so-fine ones, it dawned on me what was happening. The fat-cat union bosses, descending on the city like a plague of lazy locusts, had taken all of the best rooms in the city. With the beginning of the march fast approaching and not a hotel room in sight, things looked grim.

It being inconceivable that a gentleman so esteemed as myself could sleep rough, I realised that I had to accept the least bad option—the dreaded youth hostel. I checked into a dingy dive called Isaacs. This explains my tardiness in completing this great piece. A true writer (one who has been proclaimed as an enigmatic genius, no less) could not work in these environs. I was surrounded by the travelling youth of Europe. You know the type—all dreadlocks and trendy glasses. Each one of them playing nomad with mother and father’s hard earned money and forever bemoaning the system, man. When I returned to pen down my thoughts, I was of course unable to do so. Hence my failure to meet the deadline.

But I digress. Although blameless for my circumstances, a true Irishman makes no excuses. He can only valiantly bear the burden of his misfortune. The march—that is what I must tell of. I arrived at the gathering point on Cook Street exactly at the designated time, as is my habit. Upon looking around, and observing the wretches that had gathered, I began to feel ill. What greeted me was the worst of Irish society. Holding back the bilious reaction that was ascending from my gut, I noted an assortment of trade unionists, scroungers, dole scum, single mothers and worst of all—crusties. In short, the worst of Irish society had gathered for this march.

At 2pm, the March got under way. Not knowing where else to look, I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the ground and inhaled only through my mouth. Some of these people were teachers and nurses. Some were even Gardaí for heaven’s sake! People who—whilst not directly associating with—I would certainly recognise as having a place in the hierarchy of a well-ordered society. But when they congregate under a union banner and demand more than they are deserving of, their transformation approaches deformity.

The unions (along with the workless) must surely take most of the blame for the unfortunate situation the Irish nation finds itself in. When the going was good, they drank the milk of the Celtic Tiger and grew fat and lazy. When the difficulties arrived they refused to adapt to new circumstances. They became parasites on society–much like a diseased bluebottle suckling at the teat of a lactating pig or cow. For hundreds of years, Ireland got along quite fine without unions. Sure, we had the occasional disagreements with our benefactors from across the Irish Sea but for the most part people in this country were happy. When Communism be-spoiled the cultured and enlightened empire of Tsarist Russia, scoundrels the world over got uppity and greedy and joined unions—leading to moral decay in many countries, including our own. And here I was marching with these creatures!

A job is a job and I am a man, but upon having these thoughts I considered abandoning this march. Nonetheless, I continued the hideous trek. Soon the complete lack of discipline these animals possess manifested itself. Some of the more crusty elements of the crowd deliberately departed from the pre-approved route and in an outrageous provocation intruded into one of Dublin prime places of tranquillity, St Stephens Green. These belligerent and unruly crusties should consider themselves lucky that the on-duty Gardaí failed in their duties. Perhaps the presence of traitor Gardaí marching in line with unions forced a hesitation. Surely in less peculiar circumstances, batons would have been produced. Law breakers everywhere must face the full wrath of the State. This situation was no different. Nonetheless, the day will come when the destined gatekeepers of Ireland’s heritage will take up the mantle and provide security, responsibility and, most importantly, retribution.

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